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Monday, July 21, 2014

V11:Chapter One-Staying on Track

Volume ElevenElephant in the Doom

Chapter One

Staying on Track

In which Dodger lays
down the law

Much to Dodger’s dismay, the line didn’t get back into
motion until early the following morning. Turned out PAUL’s storage space
wasn’t quite as ready as it looked. It took a bit of time to get the machine,
as well as the spirit inside of it, situated enough for travel. Boon helped as
best he could with lifting and welding, but the more delicate work required
smaller, steadier hands—a fact that seemed to frustrate the ghost to no end.
Dodger offered his services, but the doc insisted both Lelanea and Dodger get
some much needed rest after their sordid adventure in the town of Jubilee.

Dodger didn’t argue the point; partially because he figured
the man knew what was best, being a doctor and all, but mostly because Dodger
was so dog tired. The usually spunky and independent Lelanea didn’t argue with
her uncle either, but for very different reasons. After her initial
conversation with her beau upon returning to the line, she retired to her
quarters and didn’t emerge again for a couple of hours. Dodger fancied he heard
a bit of weeping and even some arguing rising from her end of the cab, but he
tried his best to stay out of whatever drama was brewing. As it was, he slept
fitfully with worry on his heart for his friends.

No, he worried for his family.

Dodger woke the next morning to a gentle but persistent
rapping on his cabin door.

“Mr. Dodger?” Torque said.

“Yeah,” Dodger groaned. “Give me a minute.” He rolled out of
his bunk and threw on a shirt, wondering what sort of emergency would bring
Torque so politely knocking. Dodger slid the door open and stared bleary eyed
into the hallway at the mechanical man. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Torque said. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is
right. So very, very right. Love makes things right, you know. Love. Love for
Lelanea.” Some hidden clockwork spun and whistled in a faux sigh. “Lelanea.
Isn’t that a beautiful name?”

Dodger pinched the bridge of his nose. Not this again.
“Look, Torque, I appreciate your new found affections, but please tell me you
didn’t wake me up just to remind me you’re in love with her.”

“I did, but not just. I also brought you this.” Torque
turned and lifted a tray from a trolley to his right. He all but shoved it at
Dodger, as some of that old attitude seemed to linger in the metal man,
somewhere.

Dodger stared down at the dome covered tray. “What is that?”

“That,” Mr. Torque said, pausing to lift the cover, “is
breakfast.”

The smell of eggs rose from the plate, and for a golden
moment Dodger hoped against hope that Feng was once more up and about. That the
old Celestial had beaten whatever kept him down for so long. That the TAP was
functional and the threat of Rex destroying all space and time had finally
passed. But the contents on the tray spoke of a different truth.

Instead of a fantastic display of delicious delights, the
tray held a passable breakfast of cold eggs, tepid coffee and soggy toast.

Dodger’s stomach turned as he glared at the meal.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Torque said.

“Not anymore,” Dodger said before he caught himself. “I mean
of course, thanks.” He sat the tray to one side and tried to usher the butler
from his room.

“I attempted to give my love her tray, but she won’t answer
her door.”

“I’m sure she’s just overslept. Now move along.”

“Then I shall wake her with a beautiful melody.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Dodger shoved the
mechanical man toward the door.

“You can start by letting me get dressed.” Dodger pushed on
the deadweight of metal until it finally relented and moved into the hallway.

“Good then,” Torque said as he grabbed the trolley handle.
“You get ready and I’ll wait.”

“Wait in the meeting cab.”

“I don’t mind waiting-”

“In the meeting cab,” Dodger growled. “Now!”

Torque’s mustache quivered at the loud command. “Yes, sir.”
With that, he scurried off, pushing the trolley into the next cab.

“And get the rest of the crew together!” Dodger shouted
after him. “We need to talk about things!”

Dodger slid the door closed and wrinkled his nose at the
tray of cold food. Everyone missed Feng’s cooking, but at least the overly
cheery mechanical man was trying to help out for once. This strange fact
twisted Dodger’s stomach—the sudden and startling change in Mr. Torque’s
personality. Before their visit to Jubilee, the clockwork servant couldn’t be
bothered to give anyone the time of day, much less prepare a meal for his
fleshy companions. But now… now the machine seemed more man than ever.

As if to equalize this change, Boon had dipped in the
opposite extreme, growing exceedingly detached and refusing to leave the PAUL.
It was as if the spirit has become addicted to the tactile abilities the
mechanism lent him, and preferred being cooped up in the cargo cab as opposed
to the freedom of his ethereal movement outside of the machine. Dodger wanted to
believe it was just the burden of the task at hand weighing on the spirit, but
he knew better. More than just a bullet had passed between the ghost and the
clockwork man. Something that left Torque obsessed with Lelanea while Boon had
lost all interest in her.

Dodger contemplated this as he shoveled the congealed eggs
into his mouth, then dressed for the morning meet up.

Torque took the helm, allowing Ched to attend the meeting.
Lelanea showed up as well, though she was obviously distracted with worry. The
doc sat at his desk, looking as bone tired as Dodger felt. Sarah yawned and
rubbed at her face. Everyone stared at Dodger through weary eyes, each one worn
slap out with either grief or lack of sleep, or both. The constant travel,
coupled with the recent events, had everyone at the end of their tether,
including Dodger. Even Ched seemed exhausted for a not-dead man who didn’t
really need sleep. If they kept up this pace, Feng wouldn’t be the only one
down for the count.

“We have about a week left,” Dodger said as he leaned back
against the window. “According to Ched we can make it to Rex’s compound in less
than two days, if we travel nonstop.”

Ched nodded, slow and languid.

“Might I make a suggestion?” the doc said, raising his hand
like a schoolboy.

“Oh, yes, well, in that case, I think it might be best if we
take full advantage of the seven days we have left.”

“In what way?” Lelanea said.

“I think we should stop off and take a breather,” the doc
said. “Get a chance to stretch our legs, fill up on supplies, maybe get a good
night’s sleep in a proper bed? We have been going at it nonstop, and while I
enjoy traveling a great deal, especially in my own creation, I think a bit of a
layover would do us all some good.”

“You make it shound like a vacashun,” Ched said.

“Perhaps that is precisely what we need?” The doc furrowed
his brow, as if confused by his own words.

“Sir,” Dodger said. “I would like nothing more than to take
a break from all of this, but we both know that can’t happen. Between that
maniac holding little Rodger and those dog men hostage, and Feng’s poor health,
we need to finish this as quickly as possible.”

“I know, sir,” Dodger said. “But what choice do we have? Rex
may have gave us two weeks before he starts killing off those men, but that
don’t mean he’ll hold to it. And there is no telling what he will do to that
poor kid.”

“My brother’s gonna be all right,” Sarah said. “Won’t he?”

“I sure hope so,” Dodger said.

“I see your point,” the doc said and hung his head with a
heavy sigh. “Well then, Mr. Dodger, what path do you recommend?”

Dodger pointed to a thin line he had sketched across a map
that hung on the back wall of the meeting cab. “Rex’s compound is a few hundred
miles into California, but if we follow these existing rail systems it should
be a fairly clear shot. There might be a few gorges and mountains on the way,
but thankfully the Pacific Railroad has kindly cleared a path for us. From what
Ched explained to me, getting through those tunnels and over those bridges
won’t be an issue.”

“How are we gonna get through another train’s tunnels?”
Sarah said.

“Rather simply, I should think,” the doc said.

Sarah stared at the man, blinking as she awaited an
explanation.

An explanation Dodger had gotten that morning from the
driver, but Sarah wouldn’t get without asking.

“More detail?” the doc said. He puffed up his cheeks and
exhaled slowly. “The train can borrow another track, if needed.”

“How?” Sarah said.

“We can disengage her current track system, store them over
the top of the line, and mount her wheels to an existing rail, thus borrowing
them for as long as needed. Then we reverse the process so she can run on her
own again. There is a measure of difficulty involved but in the end it is a
fairly simple process.”

“A meashure?” Ched said. He huffed. “It’sh damned hard work,
ish what. It takesh twish ash long to hop the railsh as it doesh to travel the
length of it.”

“It’s time we can spare,” Dodger said, “if we keep moving.”

Sarah scrunched up her nose in confusion. “I still don’t
think I get it.”

“Dear, dear,” the doc said. “Well, imagine if you took off
your shoes and put them on your head, then you slipped into Mr. Ched’s shoes,
and walked around a bit, then took his shoes off and put your shoes back on.
That’s what it would be like.”

“Oh,” Sarah said. “But his shoes wouldn’t fit my feet.”

“They would if you could expand your feet to fill them. You
see the Sleipnir can shift the pitch of her wheels to reach the required rail
widths. Or rather in this case, narrow them. She can fit any rail system from
anywhere all over the world.”

“Then why doesn’t your train just ride those rails all of
the time? Wouldn’t it be better on her own tracks if she didn’t have to wear
them out?”

The doc tapped his bearded chin in thought. “Let me ask you
this, if you could hypothetically fit Ched’s shoes, why wouldn’t you just take
them away from him and walk around in his shoes all of the time? Why wear out
your own shoes when you can use his?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what hypothemically means.”

“It’s hypothetically,” Dodger said. “And it means
supposin’.”

“So, supposing his shoes fit would I just take ‘em?” Sarah
said. “Well, I couldn’t just take his shoes because they don’t belong to … oh,
I see. It would be like stealing. Those rails belong to someone else.”

“Correct,” the doc said and clapped excitedly. “My, but you
are a clever child.”

Sarah smiled.

“She’s a product of Al’s teaching,” Dodger said with some
amount of pride, as if he had taught the gal himself.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Lelanea said, “but
what makes you think Rex will let us make it straight to his compound? Surely
he relies on those same rails for supplies and knows we will use them for our
approach. He had laid tricks and traps for us every inch of the way so far. Why
should the last few hundred miles be any different?”

“I don’t doubt it,” Dodger said. “Which is why I think we
should ignore everything between here and our goal. Anything that looks
remotely distracting, we will just ride right on by. No stopping. Straight
shot.”

“You think we should?” the doc said, patting his hands
together in that nervous tic. “What if some poor soul’s life has been fouled by
that horrible dog, leaving only us to pick up the pieces?”

Dodger set his jaw at that. “Nothing. No stopping. He keeps
setting us up for delays. If we don’t take the bait we won’t fall into the
trap.”

“But what if-”

“Doc,” Dodger said over the man, “you have the biggest heart
of any man I have ever known, so I know how hard this is going to be for you.
But you have to trust me. We have to take charge of this. If we ignore his
tricks we will gain the advantage. We have him on size thanks to your idea of
getting PAUL. Now we need to get him on speed. He expects us in seven days, not
two. Imagine the look on his smug little face when we show up four days early.”

The doc nodded his understanding, but his eyes still glistened
with unspent worry.

At the back of the cab, the metal flower of the speaking
tube bloomed open. Torque’s voice chirped across the tube, filling the cab with
his uncanny cheer. “Mr. Dodger, it seems we are approaching a makeshift
campground.”

Dodger shuddered at the lively tone of the clockwork
servant. He wasn’t the only one.

“It jusht ishn’t right,” Ched whispered.

“I know what you mean,” the doc said in a low voice. “This
morning he called me his master. It was so unlike him, I didn’t know what to
say.”

“Can we not dwell on it?” Lelanea snapped.

“Mr. Dodger?” Torque said over the tube. “The encampment?”

“Just go around it,” Dodger said.

“I would like to do nothing more than just that, sir, but
I’m afraid we are being hailed now.”

“Hailed?”

“Yes, sir. Hailed. Greeted. Welcomed. Addressed.”

Dodger rubbed at his aching temples, trying to push back the
early signs of a headache. “I know what hailed means, Torque.”

“Of course, sir. What shall I do?”

“Hang on, I’m coming.” Dodger made his way to the door,
looking over his shoulder as he said, “You all work out a watch roster between
you. Six hours on duty at a turn. That way we don’t all have to stay on alert
all of the time for the next two days.”

“What about the folksh hailing ush?” Ched said, getting up
to follow Dodger.

“Stay here,” Dodger said, pointing at the not-dead man. “I
will deal with this. I’m sure it’s another one of Rex’s tricks. One I don’t
plan to fall for it. Are you with me?”

Everyone nodded, including the doc.

“Good,” Dodger said. “Now, make up that roster and I’ll be
back in a few minutes.”

Dodger left the crew
to their work and made his way to the engine cab. “What’s this about then?”

“Just off the port side, sir,” Torque said without looking
away from the helm. “The encampment is about five miles out. We should be on it
in under a minute.”

Snatching up a pair of SPECS, Dodger moved in behind the
mechanical man. Sure enough, there lay a hazy outline of something off to one
side of the train just off in the distance. He lifted the glasses to his eyes
and peered over Torque’s shoulder. The SPECS adjusted to bring the blurry form
into view. He spotted several large tents pitched in the middle of nowhere,
decorated in wild colors and bustling with all manner of folks. It wasn’t
unusual for the construction of the rails to attract such nomads, varied
entrepreneurs eager to feed, clothe and satisfy the rail worker’s every desire,
while emptying his wallet. Sometimes these collections of tents turned into
proper towns. Sometimes they faded into the dust they rested on.

In the middle of these tents there stood an enormous form,
at least ten feet tall, maybe more, waving a large white flag at the train.

A form Dodger didn’t expect, but was delighted to find. He
laughed aloud at the sight, then shouted, “Torque!”

“Yes?” Torque said.

“Slow her on down and as soon as you’re out a quarter mile
bring us to a full stop.”

“Yes, sir.” Torque complied, slowing the line down.

“What about not shtoppin’?” Ched said.

Dodger turned about to find Ched and the doc had followed
him after all. He hung the SPECS back in their spot with a grin. “I said we
wouldn’t stop for strangers. I never said anything about friends.”